


Not Undead

by FrejaStahl



Category: Original Work, Turning into a zombie, inside zombies, zombie - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-06-24 11:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrejaStahl/pseuds/FrejaStahl
Summary: Kind of wondered what it feels like to be turning into a zombie.  Let's see...Maybe this can be something I can add a little more each time. Hmm.





	1. Scratch

We've finally come to our Safe Stop Zone. Fuck me, it feels like we've been walking/running for ages! I'm tired and sweaty and thirsty and I've got a tiny cut on my leg. I think one of those things scratched me. I'm scared. But it's only a little scratch, it's not even bleeding. Should I check with Prof? She's normally pretty on the ball with these kinds of things.

"Hey, Prof!", oh shit she won't tell Guy will she? I don't like Guy, angry little man.  
"What?", Prof turned around.  
"Erm, you got any more water? I just ran out!", that's the shittest side-tracking ever! I scratch my leg.  
"You're gonna have to wait, we have to check this Stop Zone first before we all decide to relax. You know what happened at the last one."  
Yeah, don't remind me...  
The zombies seem to be getting faster. I'm not a great runner, but let me tell you I can run if one those things is chasing me. Just not quick enough it would seem.  
"Ok, Prof, no problem". I'm scratching really hard now. Idiot! It's all red and blotchy now, good job, stupid! I roll down my trouser leg.

I'm so fucking tired! I'm just gonna slump up against this door. Make sure nothing can get in behind us. I can't even be bothered to take my backpack off anymore. I'll just lean until someone tells me this place is no longer safe. I keep an eye out while Prof and Guy take a walk around the Stop Zone.

"OK, seems like this place is alright, I guess we can rest here for the night", Guy decided. Smarmy peice of shit. I hate his attitude and the way he chews with is mouth open. Apparently he's got a girlfriend waiting for him somewhere. What in the actual fuck wants to voluntarily be with that obnoxious twat? She must be mail-order. Or not within her senses. Or not fucking real.  
"Right. Where's Prof?", I don't enjoy being alone in his presence. He makes me uncomfortable.  
"Don't you worry your pretty little pony-tail", I very obviously roll my eyes and let out a huge sigh of "I cannot be fucking arsed with your existence", "She's right over there".  
Prof came up with a handful of water and handed me a couple bottles. I smile at her, she nodded. I like her. I trust her.  
Not enough to tell her though. I drink right the way down one of the bottles she handed me and I check my leg again. Ew it's all bobbly like a cold-sore. That has to be because I scratched it. My hands aren't exactly the cleanest at the moment. Fuck! 

"What you staring at?", Guy again.  
"My own god-damned ankle, you ok with that?", I stopped short of you annoying, grimy, fucking fuck!  
Then he groaned and turned over and went to sleep.  
"You alright?", Prof asked. "I think so, I've got a thing on my leg...I'm a bit weirded out by it", I told her. She looked concerned. "One of those things didn't even touch you, I don't understand. You should be alright as long as it's not infected".  
Prof got up and placed her palm over my forehead. "No temperature...yet" She said. "It's not looking too good" she grimaced at my leg, looking up at me shaking her head. "Put this on it", she already opened up a first aid and swamped it with an antiseptic wash and taped it over the rash. "You must've scratched it getting here. Just keep it covered and clean, and fucking TELL ME, if you feel worse". I nodded and felt bad not telling her I think I did get close enough to one of the fast zombies for it to scratch me.

"Sleep it off", she said. That made me laugh. Hungry? Sleep it off. Guy pissing you off? Sleep it off. Maybe I can sleep this off. Maybe.  
I'm so scared, I don't want to turn into one of them. I don't want to die. I want to go home. I'm scared.

"Sleep it off" I agreed with Prof using my backpack as a pillow and curling up into a ball. My leg has started tingling a bit. Sleep it off.

A couple hours in to some sleep and I'm awake again. I don't feel right. My neck feels stiff and my skin is really tingly. I feel a bit twitchy, and there's an itch deep in my skin that I can't reach. No matter how hard I scratch. I've been scratching for a while now, and not just my leg. That swab Prof put on my leg is all yellow. Fucking gross. I need to take it off because it's itching. And I just want to scratch so much!!! I've scratched the entire patch of rash off, turning it into an oozing fleshy mess. But, fuck me, does that feel satisfying!!! My eyes had adjusted to the dark but I couldn't see that my nails were eating away at my skin exposing fresh flesh. My eyes rolled back in an almost orgasmic feeling of scratching the worst bastard itch I've ever felt. I didn't stop until a felt a scrape, and it fucking hurt!!! Like a sensitive tooth, but in my leg? What the actual fuck! Then the soreness set it, "urgh", I moaned and stuffed the gaping hole with the blotchy yellow wadding I removed in a hurry not five minutes before. I wiped my hand across my trouser leg and rolled it down over the even bigger sore. I twitched and stretched my neck. I'm feeling restless and hungry. I'll just have to wait.

A few more hours have passed. My head feels like it's swimming. I've got a headache but I can't place where exactly in my head. I'm breathing shallow and watching Guy drooling into his sleeve. He's disgusting. I think I'm dying...or worse, turning.

I'm so disappointed. I thought for a bit that I could actually make it to the Safe Point. That I could get a shower and some clean clothes. Some warm food, and not just packs of whatever people left behind. I really miss burgers. The ease with which you could get them, how cheap they were, how warm they felt when you bit into the steaming stacks of meat. I felt bad for all those times I turned my nose up at a burger, my boyfriend loved burgers. I missed burgers more than him right now. The greasy juices released when you chewed them, the meaty flavours, the crunch between your teeth as you grinded away at the bits of gristle..mmm...My mouth began to water..and I realised I was staring at Guy, watching the pulsating jugular in his neck as he slept like he was at home. Nobody's going to miss him. I think I can smell him. I stretch my neck and twitch again. The bits under my nails are itching. I start picking at them, getting carried away with some and picking them entirely away, using my teeth to get a better grip, I think I'm enjoying the tough texture of the nail base. I feel like I'm falling asleep again. I feel a little bit cold. Maybe I'll just rest my eyes a little bit. Sleep it off.


	2. Itch

Don’t remember Prof and Guy waking up and going anywhere. I can’t see them in the cabin. Maybe they’ve gone off to a different section of the stop zone. Either way I’m up now and I’m poking at my leg again. My neck isn’t right still, I twitch again and I can feel that itch again…That incessant itch! It’s driving me insane I cannot reach it I don’t know what to do...do I scrape away at my skin until it goes away?! My hands feel very clammy…I am not OK. The itch is in my throat now, that bit in between the ear and the throat...there and I can’t scratch it…”aaccckkkhhh”…I try to reach it…”khhaaaaaaaa!!!” hacking away at my throat trying to get rid of it. 

I’m clenching my hands now, it’s driving me insane and my headache is back again…I can’t deal with this!! I’ve dug what’s left of my nails into my palms, and my toes are curled up in my boots, doing what I can to shake this annoying feeling!!!!

“What the actual fuck?!” I hear Guy in between me taking a breath, “Prof she’s gone mental for real this time!!” Prof ran up past him, and stops just short of reaching me. I can't stop convulsing and scratching at my throat. I want to stop, "Prof, please! Help!" I manage in between the gasps of air I take up. I hear a sudden clang of metal on the floor, then Prof's hands on my shoulders shaking me hard, "Guy grab some water, she's burning up!", he returns with a few bottles and empties an entire bottle over my head, it's not cold but the shock is enough to unclench my hands and relax. My jaw still twitches every few moments but I can feel the pulsating subside in my head, and my toes relax again.

"What was that?!?" Guy shouted, "I thought she'd turned", I hear Prof telling him, "good thing she spoke, otherwise she'd be a goner." Prof was going to kill me?! Is that what that clang was?? I force my eyes past Prof, and notice her machete on the ground. She was going to kill me!?..Prof was inspecting my leg and doused it with another wash of antiseptic and changed the swab. "You!! I trusted you!", to a certain extent I mean, "you were going to kill me!" I managed to get the words out.

"Look," Prof explained, "You were making sounds like one of those things, what did you expect me to do?!" "Turn into one of them too, by the sounds of her attitude right now", Guy butted in. "You're not helping, Guy!!", Prof turned back to me. "You're cut's really badly affecting you, and it's gross as fuck!", she shrugged at me, "I didn't sign up for good bedside manner." Prof got up and turned back to pick up her machete and walked to her spot for sleep.

I turned over onto my front, flopped over my backpack still. A few moments of recovery pass and I feel like getting up to walk around. My leg is buzzing away with pain. I take a couple painkillers and get up, they'll kick in soon enough. Not like I've eaten anything yet. Thinking of which, "Is there any food around?", I groan, "Yeah, down the other end of the stop zone", Guy pointed towards the shadowed end of the cabin, "standard left over bread, wrinkly veggies, a real five-star set up!" "Piss off, Guy. I am not in the mood", I shake my head. "Are you ever?" he retorted. "No." I muttered under my breath and dragged my bad leg across the way.

Walking is such a chore right now. You don't realise how heavy your body can be until it's hurt or sore. My head already feels like it weighs tons, and now my leg is weighing me down. They'll end up leaving me here if it carries on like this. I trawl though the cupboards and drawers, and take out a slice of bread and eat it with a wrinkly bit of carrot that isn't bruised from age. It doesn't taste of much, does it? 

I just need a different taste other than stale.


	3. Bite

I’m starting to feel very unsettled again. I’ve got this underlying urge for something I can’t quite put my scraped up finger on. I don’t know how else to describe it other than it feels like my skin is restricting me, like the tightness of my flesh is preventing me from reaching an itch deep inside my torso. I keep twitching, my neck forcing my head to one side of the body. It feels like something is trying to pull it off!

I grip the surface of the worktop bench of what used to be someone’s kitchen, splintering my already damaged fingernails. I force my eyes past the deep darkness of the unlit cabin. My eyes have adjusted to the dark and I can slightly see the lump that is Guy sleeping in the corner of the room.

I can smell him.

He’s got this sickly sweaty sweet smell about him. None of us had washed in days, but I could almost see him while he slept like nothing mattered. My brain locked on to his stench. I took a deep, lung-filling breath, swallowing hard as I realised my mouth had filled with saliva…at Guy’s smell…? No, that’s not right. But I’ve pinned my eyes to where he’s sleeping, and my mouth is dripping saliva. 

He’s all warm and fleshy. More importantly, he’s asleep. He’s not even going to know I’m here. If I can move real slowly towards him, complete with my broken leg; considering I won’t be moving any faster than it’d let me, that would be ideal. Just a little taste isn’t going to matter.

Can you hear yourself think?! What are you doing? Why are you thinking like that?!  
Because it has been actual fucking WEEKS since I’ve had anything proper to eat!  
So?! Neither has anyone else! Get it together!! You are better than this!  
I don’t think I am. Anyway...it’s not like anyone will miss him…  
I mean, I guess you have a little point.  
A little bite won’t hurt.  
And I am so hungry right now.

My leg’s pulsating again, but this time the pain isn’t as crushing as it had been previously.

I walk towards Guy in the total darkness. Dragging my dud leg slowly, quietly to his sleeping spot, I wipe my mouth on my sleeve so I don’t drip spit on him as I approach him. Guy has turned his head in prime position; neck fully exposed. He’s sleeping so deeply, I stare at him, taking a deep breath of his skin. I plunge my teeth into his neck, ripping up the skin as hard as I can. The vessels in his neck burst, releasing all the meaty goodness that he’s been holding in himself the entire time.

Naturally he screams; jumping up and grabbing his neck shouting out in horror. I can see his mouth open, blocking out his sound, I lunge towards him and dig my nails into his back to hold on to my food. I tear further into his neck, pulling out the sweeter meat from the inner layers of the neck. It tastes so good. He’s dropped to the floor now, and the flow of the blood has slowed down.

He’s not as warm as he was earlier and the meat doesn’t taste as good anymore. Am I full?

I sit back on to the floor, staring at what was Guy. I heard a shuffling in the cabin darkness behind me.

Oh, good. Prof’s back…


End file.
